


The House That Attempted to Drip Blood On Sam and Dean

by cruelest_month



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen, Humor, Urban Legends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruelest_month/pseuds/cruelest_month
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchesters investigate the Urban Legend of "The House that Dripped Blood on Alex" only to discover Alex has several screws loose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The House That Attempted to Drip Blood On Sam and Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Just some nonsense I wrote for a friend. You don't need to be familiar with The House That Dripped Blood on Alex so long as you've heard of The Room or Tommy Wiseau.

The Winchester brothers stood in front of the third house on Blood Street and Dean had a feeling they were both equally unimpressed with the place. 

Sam sighed. “You know how they always get a bad feeling about this in Star Wars?”

“This won’t be bad. Just stupid,” Dean muttered tersely before squaring his shoulders and heading up the stairs to the house’s porch.

"The House that Dripped Blood on Alex" was a fairly obscure and useless beyond dumb urban legend. Basically if your name was Alex and you were stupid enough to live on 123 Blood St. Anywhere, USA, you ended up with blood all over you. 

Dean felt the solution to this could be summed up in four words: _Move out, you dumbass_. But since that didn’t seem to be working, Sam had dragged him out here to see what they could do for the latest Alex. 

A thin potch-marked man with unwashed and long black hair answered the door. He didn't say anything, just stood there smiling like a brain-dead chipmunk with some sort of hideous face-eating cancer. Blood dripped down from the door frame and onto his face and still the guy remained mute. 

“Uh. So. Hello," Dean said. "I’m guessing you’re Alex.”

“Me? I am Alex. How did you know, huh?”

“Just a lucky guess.”

“How clever. And you guess this all by yourself. Can I be helping you, kind sirs?”

Dean frowned. Sam’s occasional references to Star Wars had never seemed so apt. This guy was an alien if ever there was one. 

“We’re here to fix the faulty wiring in your attic,” Sam suggested. 

“But I have not called. I have not. You are reading my mind to know these things?” The man grinned and a massive droplet of blood stained his teeth a dark red. But the blood wasn’t the problem. It was this Alex guy. He was totally beyond wrong, and Dean was pretty he didn’t care what happened to him one way or the other. 

Sam laughed awkwardly. “No, sir. Our company called earlier. Did you get our message?”

“No, but that is fine. It is fine. You have names?”

“I’m Sam and this is Dean. From Avalanche Wiring Company.”

"Are you?"

Dean sighed. “Yeah.”

“Well. It is a pleasure to meet you, Samuel.”

Sam blinked. “Um. Sure.”

"And not so bad to meet you, Dean."

"Great." 

Alex grinned again. “You will come and see the attic, won’t you, Samuel and Dean?”

They both nodded and marched up to the attic after him with the flashlights they’d bought at CVS –on sale, two for two dollars—and a toolbox they’d stolen out of the back of someone’s pickup truck on the way over that was mostly full of the supplies they planned on using to exorcise the house's Alex-obsessed demons. 

“I shall bring you refreshments, huh?” Alex asked. He laughed and went downstairs. 

“And you wanted to bring Castiel here,” Dean muttered once they were alone in the creepy guy’s attic. 

"It isn't that bad," Sam insisted.

"Not that bad. Right. Did you see him? Did you listen to him try to form sentences? That freak is probably down there making us arsenic cookies right now.”

Sam gave Dean a scolding look. “We don’t have to like the people we help.”

“Yeah but it usually goes better when we do. I mean, let’s be honest." He scrunched his face together and started using a thick and very fake Russian accent since he couldn't figure out where Alex was actually from. "Do we care about Captain Space Cadet’s blood problems, huh? Huh, Samuel? Will you be friends with Alexander?”

Sam glared at his brother and set to work examining every square foot of the attic including the crawl space. 

Dean poked around, gingerly shoving at piles and cardboard boxes with the toe of his sneaker. 

Alex was pretty slow with the refreshments, and while they continued shifting through the mounds of stuff in the attic, they found his body. Well, it wasn’t his body since pots and pans were still clanging downstairs and the real Alex was singing some sort of horrible folk song as he cooked up something unappetizing. Maybe monkey brains, but it didn't matter much in comparision to the clone they'd found. The body was decidedly Alex-shaped. So maybe there was another Alex or a pod person or something. Maybe the demon was the guy downstairs.

They both scratched their heads, listening as blood dripped down the floorboards, presumably onto Alex. 

“Well, Obi-Wan," Dean said with a sigh. "Now what?” 

“Now we clean this up.”

“Dude. I am not cleaning up that guy’s blood. There’s no telling what sort of diseases he has.”

“This isn’t Alex." Sam frowned. Dean was happy to see that his brother looked as wary as he felt. "At least maybe it’s not.”

“Either way, this guy looks like the Alex he’s dripping blood onto. They both look like the unwanted offspring of Rasputin and a very drunk Norwegian mole.”

Sam squinted and shone his flashlight on the other Alex’s face. “Wow. They do.”

“Exactly. So like I said… I’m not cleaning this up.”

Sam hesitated then nodded. “Neither am I. But, well, we have to do something.”

"We can leave."

"And risk this infecting others?"

They both looked at each other and sighed. 

“Set the house on fire?” Dean asked.

A small glimmer of interest shone in Sam's eyes before he tried to be the sensible one. He took a full minute to debate the merits and flaws of Dean's plan. “Couldn't hurt," he decided. "Besides, it’s been awhile since we set a house on fire.”

“Good man,” Dean said, and patted his brother on the shoulder. 

They went back downstairs and discovered that Alex was playing football by himself. He kept throwing the pigskin at the wall and ducking for cover when it came flying back at him. 

“We need to go get some more supplies,” Sam said.

Alex tossed the football into the air and laughed. “All right, Samuel. Have fun. It is a big world out there. Ha ha. Bye, Dean.”

They got into the car and went to the local gas station to get what they needed. Gasoline, a neat lighter, and some much needed refreshments since Alex had proven useless in that respect as well as every other that the Winchesters could think of. 

Dean left the actual supply gathering to Sam. He watched from the car, rocking out to the Talking Heads while eating a Hostess package of stale chocolate-covered donuts. 

“You could pretend to care.”

“I could,” Dean agreed cheerfully. "We could also pretend to go back and just not."

Sam rolled his eyes and silently worked on eating his own package of stale donuts as Dean drove them back. 

In the kitchen they found Alex lying on the floor, covered in blood. The football had gone through the wall and seemed to be wedged there.

“What a lame ass way to go,” Dean muttered, tugging the pigskin free. No sense wasting it. “Hell, he never even learned how to play football.”

“We’ll never know where he came from,” Sam added. Then Sam made an effort to look sorry for him, but Dean knew his brother well enough to know Sam couldn’t have cared less. 

“We still setting the roof on fire?” Dean asked. 

“It’s probably the right thing to do.”

Dean nodded sagely. “It’s what Alex would have wanted.”

Sam gave Dean a look and then stared at the wall, biting his lip and trying to hold perfectly still. And they both started laughing. 

Setting Alex, the other Alex, and House that Dripped Blood on Alexes on fire was pretty easy. Then they drove away quickly, and found a park to play an actual game of football. They both agreed that it ought to have been memory of Alex, but mostly it was out of boredom.


End file.
